


Symphonic Love

by orphan_account



Series: 30 Day NSFW Challenge (Iwaoi) [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Naked Cuddling, brief mentions of sex and a single mention of alcohol, trans oikawa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 01:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4372181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What—what the fuck! Why are you naked?!”</p><p>Oikawa blinks, the fingers that were in Iwaizumi’s hair stilling. “… This is my home too, Iwa-chan. Isn’t it normal to be naked in your own home?” </p><p>(day one of the nsfw challenge: naked cuddling)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Symphonic Love

**Author's Note:**

> okay actually this is more like half-naked cuddling and this isnt even smut BUT....... its fluffy and cute so i hope you enjoy!!

Iwaizumi hears him before he sees him.

Oikawa’s voice, while sometimes high and whiny and grating to Iwaizumi’s ears, is _usually_ nice, at the very least. It’s higher than Iwaizumi’s, and occasionally his voice cracks when he climbs up in tone whenever Iwaizumi grabs at his shirt or slams a volleyball (lightly) against his head in retaliation for a bad joke. He sings at times into Iwaizumi’s ear, unsurprisingly naughty things, or something sweet that makes Iwaizumi’s heart race.

And his heart, right now, is _pounding._ Oikawa always hums when he’s busy, low and quiet and barely noticeable unless Iwaizumi is looking for it. But, then again, he’s practically always listening to Oikawa. Sometimes, it’s to keep him out of trouble. It's not as if Iwaizumi has him on a leash or anything, not even close, but they look out for each other. Oikawa isn’t nearly so conceited that he doesn’t care for others. He’s cheerful, a good captain overall even though Iwaizumi does most of the organizing, and it’s not unusual for Oikawa to look out for his teammates. But for them, it’s different.

He feels a bit proud when Oikawa points out that his nose crinkles when he’s annoyed, or that _two_ of Oikawa’s arms make up one of Iwaizumi’s. It’s embarrassing, but—to be looked at like that, in the same way that Iwaizumi watches Oikawa, is ultimately flattering.

Oikawa is on the couch, tucked underneath a pile of blankets with his nose buried into a book. It’s some silly romantic sci-fi thriller, about an alien lady who’s taken on a grand adventure by her human lover. The summary made Iwaizumi cringe when Oikawa shoved the book in his face, but Oikawa had expected that, sticking out his tongue and proclaiming too loudly for Iwaizumi's comfort about how bad Iwaizumi’s taste in books was for the whole cafeteria to hear.

He’s humming to himself, flipping through the pages lazily. Iwaizumi sees his eyes move to read across each line of text, big and almond-brown. He sighs and slides onto the couch beside him, nuzzling his face against Oikawa’s neck and breathing in his scent. Usually it’s just like sweat and cologne from being in the gym, but on the few days where he spends more time relaxing than practicing, he smells like vanilla and strawberry shampoo.

“Iwa-chan, I’m reading,” Oikawa complains, licking his finger and then flipping the page. Iwaizumi glares at him, because he’s one-hundred percent sure that he’s only doing that to look cooler than he really is. Iwaizumi already knows Oikawa is a _dork._ There’s nothing for him to hide.

“I’m not interrupting you.” Iwaizumi throws his arm over Oikawa’s shoulders and settles his head on Oikawa’s shoulder. Soft tresses brush against his cheek and Iwaizumi shuts his eyes, curling into the warmth of the blankets thrown over Oikawa’s body.

He’s usually not this affectionate—he’d readily admit that himself, because Oikawa is by far the more physically clingy one in their relationship. But seeing Oikawa, thinking of him, when he looks so calm and serene in _their_ apartment under _their_ blankets…

It’s difficult not to fall prey to the love bubbling steadily in his chest when Oikawa shifts against him, resting his head on top of Iwaizumi’s.

“Do you want something, Iwa-chan? It’s worrying when you come out of the blue and do cute things.” Oikawa flips the page and Iwaizumi frowns, even if he isn’t upset in the slightest. It’s a reflex at this point. (Oikawa has insisted that Iwaizumi pouts instead of frowns, and Iwaizumi counters that it’s Oikawa’s fault for rubbing off on him. Oikawa almost always makes a painfully bad dirty joke after.) “I already took all my medication today after dinner, so you don’t need to nag at me, okay?”

“I’m not going to nag,” Iwaizumi huffs. He gently pushes Oikawa’s hands down, slipping the book out of his grip and pulling Oikawa just a bit closer. “I don’t even nag anyways.”

Oikawa smiles innocently. “Sure.”

“You can read your book any time, we should do something together. We’re paying for movies on demand, so we should at least watch a few.”

“See? You’re nagging.” Oikawa giggles and slings his legs over Iwaizumi’s lap. They’re long, muscles toned and tight. Iwaizumi has no idea how Oikawa can stand shaving almost every day—he’s tried for only a day or two, and it always ends up with his skin bloody and unevenly prickly. He runs his hand down one of Oikawa’s legs, his palm gliding across the smooth skin. Definitely a lot softer than his. “Are you here to satisfy your leg kink?”

Iwaizumi sputters for a moment, heat rising to his cheeks, because he did _not_ have a leg kink. At least… not for just anyone. “Can’t I just hold my boyfriend and watch a movie in peace?” he grumbles.

Oikawa leans forward and presses his lips to Iwaizumi’s forehead, a light kiss that leaves his skin tingling and his face turning redder. He reaches up to smooth down Iwaizumi’s hair and the blanket around his shoulders falls to his lap, and—

There's something plush and soft against Iwaizumi's chest, pressing lightly to the front of his shirt.

“What—what the fuck! Why are you naked?!”

Oikawa blinks, pausing threading his fingers through Iwaizumi’s hair. “… This is my home too, Iwa-chan. Isn’t it normal to be naked in your own home?” he says, in the kind of tone that told Iwaizumi he knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

Iwaizumi looks pointedly at the ceiling, at the TV, at the coffee table, eyes flittering between everything but Oikawa’s disgustingly fake innocent expression and his body, too close and _way_ too exposed.

“Y… You’re the devil,” Iwaizumi hisses after a few moments of blushing furiously and examining the stain on their carpet from when Oikawa drunkenly tipped over a family-sized bottle of orange soda.

Oikawa moves himself into the area of Iwaizumi’s vision, pulling the blanket that had been around his shoulders onto both of them. “That’s not what you called me last night.” He winks.

There’s a fire in Iwaizumi’s heart, and it’s not from the adrenaline of volleyball or Oikawa’s fingers running down his body. It’s from sheer embarrassment and _mortification._

Which doesn't make sense in the slightest, because he sees Oikawa naked every day. They shower together when time allows, they sleep together, and one time, after hours of begging from Oikawa, Iwaizumi had sewed an ugly alien patch onto Oikawa’s binder, for Christ’s sake.

“Why are you so fucking embarrassing?” Iwaizumi groans, slowly curling his hands over Oikawa’s waist while simultaneously trying to ignore the press of Oikawa’s chest against his own. “W… We don’t have time for sex, we need to wake up early tomorrow, and you shouldn’t strain your knee that much.”

Oikawa gasps, and Iwaizumi knows instantly that he took whatever imaginary bait Oikawa had laid out for him when he made up this convoluted plan. “Iwa-chan, you pervert! Who said anything about sex?”

Iwaizumi glares at him, eyebrows cast down above his eyes and lips pressed thin. “You’re on my lap. Naked.”

“Some couples like cuddling naked.” Oikawa lifts his head, lips pursing outwards into a sickeningly adorable pout. “Hey, take off your shirt too.”

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s weird if I’m the only one like this!” Long, pretty fingers move to tug at Iwaizumi’s shirt, and he hastily pulls his hands away from Oikawa’s waist to bat them away.

“T-This was _your_ plan, asshole! Not mine!”

Oikawa’s hands are soon on him again, pulling his shirt upwards this time. The fabric rides up to his shoulders and Iwaizumi has no choice, really, except to shrug it off. Oikawa throws the poor piece of clothing across the room and it hits the opposite wall.

Well, there was pretty no chance of him getting that back within the next hour—at the very least—it seemed.

Oikawa manually tucks himself into Iwaizumi’s arms. He seats himself in between Iwaizumi’s legs and then draws his arms over his chest. He tries to ignore Oikawa’s chest against him, the way his breasts press over Iwaizumi’s arms as he glides his fingers absently over Oikawa’s stomach.

By the way Oikawa sighs happily and leans back against him, he’s pretty sure that Iwaizumi ignoring him is the very last thing Oikawa wants.

“Comfy,” Oikawa sighs. Iwaizumi rests his chin on Oikawa’s shoulder and glances sideways at him. His own cheeks are a bit pink, but nothing more than usual when he’s around Iwaizumi. He hums again when he reaches over to grab the TV remote from the close couch side table. Iwaizumi listens carefully, to the rumbling in Oikawa’s chest and the gentle movements of his throat. “Let’s watch a movie, like you said before?”

“Naked?”

Oikawa turns his head and their noses knock together. He giggles, planting a sloppy kiss to Iwaizumi’s cheek. “You’re not naked, Iwa-chan. Do you think having your shirt off counts as being naked? That’s cute.”

Iwaizumi’s never been a big cuddler in his past relationships, but there’s not even a single more satisfying way to relax than holding Oikawa. Even if he’s a scheming, aggravating, obnoxiously fluffy-haired fiend, he’s also the one who who’s unwittingly captured Iwaizumi’s heart through those same actions and songful words.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi tightens his grip around Oikawa’s stomach, patting in between his breasts teasingly. Oikawa relaxes against him, back pressing against Iwaizumi’s chest, his shoulders going slack. “Don’t put words into my mouth.”

Oikawa’s laughter is the best of the noises he makes—Iwaizumi loves the soft humming and loud cries he lets out in bed, but his laughter, his _real_ laughter, is the best kind of music to Iwaizumi’s ears.

He giggles up a storm in Iwaizumi’s lap as he turns on the TV, clearly high on Iwaizumi’s affection. He wants to find the fake annoyance to push Oikawa off him for having the audacity to climb onto Iwaizumi’s lap and make himself comfortable without any clothes, but he can’t.

Not when Oikawa looks back at him, eyes still shining and a smile still on his lips, looking at him like the laugh that Iwaizumi lets out eventually is the most precious thing in his world.

**Author's Note:**

> http://mermaidfiesta.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> any & all comments, kudos, etc are appreciated!! (´∀｀)♡ 
> 
> i didnt (and probably will never) specify oikawas (and iwaizumis) gender in this verse on purpose haha... i do have my own headcanon but id rather you guys apply your own... ill try and do one prompt a day but i may disappear for a few days because i get a lot of anxiety after posting fics +___+ also theres a few prompts in the challenge i dont really like so i may alter them a bit because im weak and bad at writing things im not really passionate about 
> 
> OK this authors note is getting way too long lmao thank you so much for reading!!


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